Chapter 4: Wedding Party

The next Tuesday at the office, we talked about the events from the previous weekends. I tried to reassure Aisha that her behaviour was normal, being under the influence of drugs, exhaustion, and too much stimulation. I was very sorry for everything that had happened to her. I wasn’t worried that she had had orgasms, nor did I consider her to be a pervert enjoying being raped. I told her that she should not feel ashamed. She was a victim. After a lot of talking, I was able to get her to calm down and get her over the trauma. For her part, she felt bad about being used to torture me with my lack of orgasms and my desire for her. She explained that she was forced to do so under the threat of severe punishment. After talking for a long time, we felt much better and supported each other.

Our lives continued as in previous months, but fortunately without visits during the weekends.

Two weeks went by before another Tuesday. At the office, Aisha told me we had to talk and “dropped a bombshell”. We were at lunch, and she told me, “I am pregnant. I have not had my period this month. I am very regular, like clockwork. I’ve never had a delay in my period.”

She began crying. I didn’t know what to say. As if the situation wasn’t complicated enough, we had this problem on top of it. I asked her, “Have contraceptives failed?” She replied through tears, “The weekend with the football team, with the drugs and my exhaustion, I forgot 4 days of taking the pills. Just that weekend, I was ovulating. Any man on the team can be the father.” I could only say, “How horrible! And in this country, abortion is impossible.” She continued crying.

Finally, I said, “We have to talk with Ahmed. We are in his hands, and he will have to find a way to solve it.”

That afternoon at home, we explained the new situation to Ahmed. He got very angry. He confirmed that abortion was illegal in the country and that an unmarried woman could not go pregnant to a doctor because it would be a signal of sexual relations outside of marriage, a crime punishable by stoning. Then he said, “The only solution for having medical attention was that the Slut marry the Slave. Slave, you will be the proud father of a bastard. I’ll call the imam and prepare all the legal papers as soon as possible.”

Aisha and I looked at each other. It wasn’t how we expected to get married, but it was in our plans anyway, so it was the least of our worries. Regarding the baby, Ahmed said that he will probably find a rich family that could adopt him and that he could earn a lot of money in return. He also said that it would be compensation for not being able to use Aisha’s body as much as he wanted during pregnancy.

In a few days, all the processes were completed, and we were legally wife and husband. With the marriage certificate, we could go to a doctor to initiate pregnancy follow-up. Ahmed unlocked the belt and bra for Aisha, and we went to the doctor, escorted by him. The doctor was an old man, seemingly very serious and rigid, who practically only spoke to Ahmed, ignoring Aisha or me. He did blood and urine tests and took samples. He made an appointment for a few days later.

Meanwhile, Ahmed decided that he should organise a ‘weeding party’ and invite the potential fathers of the infant. We were very concerned about what another ‘party’ could mean for us.

The next visit to the doctor provided totally unexpected news. He said that Aisha was not pregnant. Her lack of menstruation was due to a very serious infection. He prescribed a strong antibiotic and a gel to fight the infection. Also, any intercourse was not recommended to avoid the transmission of the infection (the condom was not allowed in the country, so it was not an option that was being considered). Finally, he said, making a face of disgust and reproach, that “it was a disease usual in whores of corrupted countries” and that “husbands must control their wives, which are sources of sin.”

Aisha left the clinic much calmer, though humiliated by the insinuations of a stranger. I was much calmer too; however, we could see an angry expression in the face of Ahmed.

When we arrived at home, he exploded, saying that we had tried to deceive him by simulating Aisha being pregnant, that Aisha didn’t take the pills to be pregnant and avoid being fucked, and many other contradictory arguments. He ordered Aisha to undress and to put on all fours. Then he kneeled behind her and said, “Slut, we can’t fuck your cunt without a condom, but you still have two holes available. And I can assure you that your ass will suffer these weeks of intensive ramming. And although condoms are forbidden in this country, I’ve got ways to get them.”

Then he separated the buttocks of Aisha and, without any lubrication, inserted the head of his cock in her anus. I could see the pain in Aisha’s face.

He holds her hips and inserts his cock slowly but forcefully until his pubis touches the buttocks of Aisha. He withdrew and began pounding more and more strongly, moving the whole body of Aisha forward and backward. I could hear the sound “slap, slap, slap...” when his body struck her ass, and I could see her breasts swaying violently. He was sodomising her furiously and as a punishment rather than for enjoyment. After a while, he finally cummed in her ass and pulled out. I could see his cum leaking from her anus.

Ahmed said angrily, “Now we need to check with a doctor if we have any STDs and ask the team members to check their cocks too.”

The following days passed as usual, with the exception that they fucked Aisha only in her mouth and ass, and that they used me more than before, fucking my mouth and ass too. Ahmed and Hassan’s visits to the doctor showed that they were not infected. Ahmed said that two members of the football team were infected and were treated with antibiotics.

Finally came the day set by Ahmed for the “wedding party.” In the morning, Ahmed, Hassan, Aisha, and I left the apartment and went up the stairs to another apartment in the same building, several floors above. Ahmed gave Aisha and me two hoods that covered all our heads, with holes for the eyes, nostrils, and mouth. He locked the hoods with small locks in the neck, explaining that he didn’t want to risk someone discovering our identities, and he lost control. Aisha and I were ordered to undress and wait.

The doorbell rang, and when Ahmed opened it, three women entered. Aisha was sent to a room with them, and they spent the whole day inside the room. I was ordered to distribute and prepare drinks and food already stored in the kitchen. Ahmed instructed me to attend to the guests, serve them, and obey them in every way.

At the end of the afternoon, the women left, and the guests started to arrive. Aisha was still in the room. The guests were the football team, including Omar, Nasir, and Aziz. The men asked whose wedding it was, who I was, and why I was wearing those strange metallic pants. Ahmed answered them, “This man is the groom; I have invited you because you know the bride ‘in depth’. Regarding the metallic pants, it’s a chastity belt. He has been chaste for the last few months, and after not cumming or fucking in all that time, this night will be his ‘wedding night’ and he will be able to taste the bride for the first time.”

They laughed a lot and made jokes: “I wouldn’t be able to bear months without cumming”; “His balls must be about to explode from cum”; “Is it some kind of promise?”; “Is he impotent?”

I felt very humiliated, but Ahmed’s words, ‘he would be able to taste the bride’ about tonight, made me hopeful that I could finally be with Aisha.

Then Ahmed went to the room and asked her to leave. She was very beautiful, wearing a white robe, a traditional wedding cloth, and sandals. I could see that she has her hands and feet tattooed with henna, according to the traditions of the country. Those are temporal tattoos with floral and abstract patterns. She maintained her head downwards and seems very ashamed. Ahmed said, “Meet your old friends, Slut.”

They began asking questions and commenting, “Do you mean the whore we fuck during the whole weekend?”; “Is she going to marry someone?; “Who dare marry her?”; “I didn’t recognise her with clothes”; “She is fucking everyone, and he is chaste? What a wimp!”; “I would never marry such a slut!”; “Can we continue fucking her after her wedding?”

Ahmed said, “She wants to say goodbye to all of you with a good party and a last fucking on her weeding night.” All of them cheered and applauded.

Ahmed continued, “As you can see, she has dressed up in her best outfits, and, following the tradition, she has tattooed with henna. However, inside her, she can’t hide her whore core. Slut, undress, and show your body!”

Aisha opened the robe and let it fall to the floor, and I could see that she has a lot of tattoos on her naked body. Some were symbols, and others were texts in Arabic that I couldn’t read. Ahmed ordered her to turn around, point to them, and read the texts. Over her pussy she had an arrow pointing downwards and the text ‘Property of Ahmed’, under her neck ‘I love deep-throat’, under her breast: ‘Pinch my nipples’ and below ‘I love drink cum’; between her buttocks another arrow pointing to her anus with the text ‘Anal Slut. I want a big cock in my ass’, in her back: ‘Fuck me rough’, ‘I was fucked 50 times in a weekend’, and ‘I need cocks in all my holes’. I could imagine how ashamed she would be with all those degrading tattoos. Luckily, the tattoos with henna are temporary, and those could be hidden until their disappearance under the cloths (except the traditional ones on the hands and feet, which were not offensive but beautiful). I also noticed that she had the hair in her pussy shaved. I could see her labia clearly.

When he finished reviewing the tattoos, Ahmed said, “Currently they are temporal, but I’m thinking of converting some of them to permanent.”

When I heard him say that, a shiver of horror ran through me. Aisha raised her head and looked at him with a look of anguish.

Ahmed then said, “Slut, greet the guests one by one, and let them enjoy your body”. She went to the first man who began groping her and kneading her breasts. After a while, he started sucking her nipples and caressing her buttocks. After the first one, she went around the men and sat down on their laps one by one, letting them grope and knead her whole body.

Meanwhile, the other members of the team were making comments, eating, and drinking. As instructed, I was serving them drinks and food, and they took the opportunity to mock me: “Don’t you mind marrying a Slut?”, “So, you haven’t had a chance to fuck her yet? I fucked her four times on that weekend”, “Her ass is tight. I can’t last more than five minutes fucking her ass without cumming and filling her bowels with cum”, “I love how she swallows all my cock until her throat and how she gulps all my cum directly to her stomach”, “I prefer her tits, soft and turgid”, “Watching how she cummed in that weekend with cocks in all her holes, I doubt that a wimp like you can satisfy her”, “You really haven’t fucked her yet? We all have.”

When she finished with all the men, including Ahmed and Hassan, she stood in the middle of the room, waiting. Ahmed came to me and said in my ear, “Now, you have to ask everyone to fuck the Slut. You should escort your ‘bride’ to the bedroom and then go out and ask each of the men, ‘Please, I am unable to fuck the bride; can you come with me, fuck her, and teach me?’. When he accepts, you must take a condom from that box and say, ‘I’m sorry, but she is a great slut and has contracted an STD disease. You have to use a condom. Sorry for the inconvenience’. Then you should escort the man to the bedroom and wait while he fucks the slut in his preferred hole. You should help him with whatever he requires for fucking the Slut. Also, you must write how and where he fucks the Slut, because I will ask you later. And remember that I have a hidden camera, so I can check your behaviour and precision. When the man ends, you must take the condom and put it in a bowl, then go out and repeat for the next man. The last must be Aziz, because after him, her hole will be too dilated to fuck.”

I begged Ahmed, “Please, please, it’s very humiliating for both of us; don’t force me; I beg you, please.” He answered, “It’s a punishment you’ve earned for trying to cheat me.” I insisted, “Please, we didn’t try to cheat you; that was a mistake. Please, I beg you.”

But he was inflexible. In despair, I went to where Aisha was, accompanied her to the bedroom, and explained to her the Ahmed plans. I could see tears in her eyes and an expression of resignation. She told me that Ahmed gave her some pills like the other weekend, and she was confused and dizzy.

Then, following my orders, I went to the living room and asked a man, “Please, I am unable to fuck the bride; can you come with me, fuck her, and teach me?” He answered laughing, “Yes, of course, I will help you.” I took a condom, and we went to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, he ordered Aisha, “Suck my cock, Slut.” She knelt, opened his trousers, and began sucking. When his cock was erect, she laid in bed. I opened the packaging of a condom, gave it to him, and he put on his erect cock. He climbed in bed, put his cock between the lips of her sex, and entered her. He began pounding her and groping her breasts. She stood still and let him do all the work. When he cummed, he stood and gave me the used condom that I put in a bowl on a cabinet. We both went out into the living room, and I repeated my humiliating question to another man: “Please, I am unable to fuck the bride; can you come with me, fuck her, and teach me?”.

Even though there was no alcohol to drink and I hadn’t been drinking, I went into a spiral where I felt like a drunk, running on autopilot, until everyone had finished fucking Aisha.